


Rain in the Sky

by silv3r_eyed_stranger



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut?, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, MrsRen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, ruthyvrsmoaked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-10-26 22:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silv3r_eyed_stranger/pseuds/silv3r_eyed_stranger
Summary: Soulmates /ˈsōl ˌmāt/(noun)a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.Hermione Granger was so sure of everything, steady job, future plans, until a man tumbled through the window of her life, head first.Draco Malfoy had plans. Plans to redeem the wrongs he commited during the war. Except, fate had other ideas. It snatched him by the robes and tossed him through the window of the most unlikely person.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> Thank you, ruthyvrsmoaked, for giving me the little push I needed to write my own Dramione fic. Also, big thanks to MrsRen for the encouragement. Check out their works when you have time, they’re absolutely amazing!

Throughout life you will meet one person  
who is unlike any other. You could talk to  
this person for hours and never get bored,  
you could tell them things and they won’t  
judge you. This person is your soulmate,  
your best friend. Don’t let them go.

-unknown

* * *

 

Every witch and wizard is born with a unique tattoo on the back of their neck that may represent an aspect, trait or important event in their life. Each person, whether born with magical or non-magical abilities, gains a black tattoo that represents their soulmate between their shoulder blades when they turn twenty. Therefore, every witch and wizard ends up with two tattoos, one of their own, one for their soulmate. The tattoo was known to tingle when your soulmate was getting close. Once you meet your soulmate, the tattoo that represents them gains vibrant colors.

Hermione Granger was the type of witch that got things done. If she had a problem, she’d get it done. The only problem she couldn’t solve was her love life. When Miss. Granger turned twenty, almost a year after the Second Wizarding War ended, a tattoo of a phoenix appeared, spreading its wings across her shoulders. Unlike everyone else, her tattoo appeared in full color. She’d met him before.

Hermione had no clue who her soulmate could possibly be.

She spent nearly all of her spare moments of free time, pouring over magical textbooks that described the ancient magic that bonded two souls together. Hermione searched for a clue that may lead her to her soulmate, but no avail, leaving her frustrated and ready to tear the books to shreds.

Across the country lay the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. There, in a poorly lit room, decorated with dark green walls and drapes, stood Draco Malfoy. In front of a mirror, looking at his tattoo for the hundredth time. Nothing could have confused him more when his tattoo appeared in full color during the war. It was of a rose, one that flowered between his shoulder blades.

One that he kept hidden from his parents.

Everyday, without fail, he examined the summer bloom. He thought about his soulmate, the little things she may appreciate. Does she prefer tea or coffee? Does she like her coffee with one or two sugars? Does she like sleeping in on the weekends? The one thing that haunted him the most was the fact that he met her, but never knew she was his soulmate. He lay awake at night, wondering if his soulmate was also spending sleepless nights thinking about him.

It was a few weeks later when his life suddenly took a dramatic turn.

<*>

The halls of St. Mungo’s were quiet. The ticking of the clock above the receptionist counter echoed in the empty halls. A few minutes later, striking twelve. It was soon after when several ‘pops’ sounded in the waiting room. Cries for help soon followed. Suddenly, nurses and doctors arrived to a scene straight out of a horror movie.

The auror was unrecognizable with blood all over his face and hair. He had deep, bloody gashes all over his body that bled profusely. Several shirts from his comrades were used in an attempt to stem the bleeding. The shirts were stained bright crimson as the uninjured aurors struggled to lift the man up. A woman made her way to the front of the crowd and immediately took charge.

“Irma, James, go fetch a stretcher. Davis, get some towels,” she turned around and stopped,” Oh! Will someone get these gentlemen some hot coffee?” Everyone hurried off to do what they were assigned. The stretcher was brought and the patient was wheeled into and operation room. It was strange, the woman’s tattoo had begun to tingle as soon as the aurors arrived. Once everything was set, the woman turned to her colleagues.

“I think I’ve got this one. You guys should head home and rest. It’s been a long day.”

“Are sure Hermione?” Timothy asked.

“I’ll be just fine, this shouldn’t take long. It looks far worse than it actually is,” she replies with a tired smile.

“If you say so…” Brian said skeptically, “All right everyone, you heard her, head on home. We’ll all be here bright and early tomorrow.”

With that, everyone dispersed, gathering their belongings. Hermione set up equipment and used the new towels to replace the bloodied shirts around the man’s torso. Hastily thrown off jackets disappeared from chairs. People began leaving in pairs, yawns were exchanged as were ‘see you laters’. Soon, the floo was quiet.

Her only company became the aurors that accompanied the injured man. She gingerly flipped the man onto his front and prepared cast ‘vulnera sanentur’ on a wound when a voice made her stop.

“‘Mione? Is that you?” Dressed in a dark brown trench coat stood the Boy Who Lived. Harry’s hair was askew and his clothes were rumpled. His glasses were steamed up from the hot mug of coffee that was clutched in his trembling hands.

It wasn’t a surprise Harry didn’t recognize her when he and his associates first arrived. She had her unruly curls tied in a bun and wore forest green scrubs with the sign of a bone and a wand on the breast pocket.

“Harry! I didn’t see you with the other aurors! What happened out there?” She whirled around in surprise, nearly knocking the coffee out of his hands. She cast ‘vulnera sanentur’ on several wounds as he began his story.

“We were ambushed by Death Eaters when we were out in the Northern Scandinavia. We were out on an alert from Durmstrang that Death Eaters were spotted in its woods a few days ago. We scoped out the woods when we were attacked. Spells were flying and we couldn’t see through the thick fog,” he said bitterly.

Hermione cast ‘tergeo’ to clean dried blood and the wounds. The blood disappeared. In its place, a rose bloomed in between the man’s shoulder blades. Hermione stood shell-shocked, her hand immediately flying to the matching tattoo on the back of her neck. Her eyes darted to his neck, a phoenix soared in an invisible wind on his neck.

“Hermione? ‘Mione? What’s wrong?!” Harry asked worriedly, setting the coffee mug on the side table and arriving by her side.

“His tattoo…it…matches,” she whispered.

 

 


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> Again, lots of love to ruthyvrsmoaked and MrsRen.

Our lives may not have fit together,  
But ohhh how our souls know how   
To dance…

-K. Towne Jr.

* * *

 

Hermione couldn’t believe it. After all this time, scouring the books for any clue that may lead her to this man, he shows up. She brushed the phoenix lightly with her fingertips, as if stroking the fine feathers of the bird. Before she could remove her hand, a a light appeared. The light traveled under his skin, leaving fading lines of gold. It looked as if a miniature Flash decided to sprint across the plains of his body.

The light gathered where obvious wounds stretched open. It was curious, the light seemed to heal the wounds, faster than a spell. She watched the golden light, mesmerized. Soon enough, the grievous wounds the man once had, disappeared, smooth unblemished skin taking its place.

“Amazing,” Harry murmured, “I’ve heard of this sort of magic, but I’ve never seen it with my own eyes.”

It was clear, by touching the stranger’s tattoo, that the act triggered ancient magic. Which in turn, healed his lacerations. Hermione shook herself out of the hazy cloud that encompassed her head.

Stepping forward, she slowly eased him onto his back. She cast a quick spell to clean the mystery man of the blood that painted his face and hair deep red. “Tergeo,” she muttered softly. The blood disappeared, allowing a certain ferret to be fairly recognizable.

“Malfoy?” she uttered in disbelief and wonder. She couldn’t believe it, her soulmate was the very person that had tormented her throughout her school years.

“Erm, about that, ‘Mione…I was going to tell you…but…” Harry said, trailing off uncomfortably.

“Harry James Potter! I expected more from you! You could have given me a warning,” she berated him while her hands gestured wildly. Whilst she was angrily shouting at Harry, the Malfoy heir began to stir. His eyes opened, looking around blearily. Once his eyes focused, he leaned back on his arms and plastered his usual smirk on his face.

“Careful, if you wave those arms even more, they may knock out Potter,” he drawled. Hermione promptly stopped talking and turned around slowly. Her eyes widened at the sight of his naked torso and immediately felt the heat of her blush creeping up her neck. “Cat got your tongue, Granger? Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Looks like I’m all right now,” he said, grinning devilishly.

“I don’t need a picture of your scrawny frame. I’ll have you know, Malfoy, I was the one who healed you,” she retorted indignantly.

“I guess that explains the job well done,” he said whilst examining his chest, “there aren’t even scars.” Draco stood up and stretched lazily, looking oddly pleased with himself. He didn’t feel so terrible complimenting the Gryffindor Princess.

“Well, I’ll see you around…Hermione,” he said quietly and sauntered out the room, leaving a pair of dumbfounded friends gaping at his retreating figure.  
Once her state of surprise passed, she rushed out of the intensive care unit. He was halfway down the hall when she yelled at him.

“Get back here you git! You’re supposed to be in critical condition and resting, not strolling down the corridors!”

“Come on, Granger, does it look like I’m in critical condition?” he called over his shoulder off-handedly, not watching where he was going. In a single moment, he slipped and hit his head on the edge of the armrest of a nearby wheelchair, knocking himself out.

Hermione groaned sprinting toward his unconscious form. “This is why you should have stayed in bed, idiot.” Harry sticks his head out of the doorway at the sound of Draco falling. He shook his head and walked over to help haul Malfoy back into his hospital room.

Harry slumped onto a lumpy old chair as Hermione waved her wand and said, “Accio ice pack.” The ice pack came zipping through the doorway and into the her hand. She plopped the cold bundle on the rapidly swelling knot on Draco’s head and proceeded to clean the room. Soon, dried flecks of blood that once decorated the floor disappeared, leaving the white tile gleaming.

As soon as she finished, she promptly collapsed in the rickety old folding chair next to Harry. They chatted for awhile, catching up on missed events in life during the time they hadn’t seen each other.

Before long, the exhaustion from her busy day caught up, her eyes had begun to drift shut. She unconsciously pulled her legs up and laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. Presently, Harry followed, his glasses sliding down his nose and his chin met his chest. Both fell asleep, smiling gently, knowing their best friend was nearby.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Just a side note, this (along with all my other works) are completely unbeta’ed. If you see any errors or wordings that sound strange, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I promise I won’t be offended. I admit, the chapters are a tad short, but they end in a nice spot (I hope). Thank you to all the people who have read, left kudos and/or subscribed. It’s truly, truly a blessing. I’ve never had such enthusiastic readers nor have I ever had so many hits in one day.  
> Again, thank you all from the bottom of my heart for support<3
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and support:) I appreciate those of you who left comments! Silent readers, I would love to hear from you!

One day, you will find that pairing soul.  
It will be a feeling beyond your imagination.  
You just can’t help but adore them. You   
Will feel your whole heart melt for this  
person. This beautiful soul will bring you  
joy, laughter, calmness, and so much   
inspiration, that you will finally see hope  
in front of you. For once, you can actually  
say, I’m in love. I can see a future with this  
person. I can share my life with this person.  
Maybe this person isn’t a lesson. Maybe this  
one is what people call a soulmate.

-Carlos Medina

* * *

 

Voices filtered in from the hallway as the morning shift began. Light filtered through the mullioned windows, casting a checkerboard of brilliant morning sunlight on the sleeping figures sprawled on the two chairs. Harry’s eyes began to flutter, finally waking. He groggily sat up, squinting at the light.   
“‘Mione, Mione! Wake up, it’s morning. Go home and take a hot shower, you’ve had long night,” Harry whispered, Hermione stirring, mumbling about letting people sleep. She finally wakes, like Harry, squinting at the sun.

“Gods, how long did we sleep for?” she asked, blinking and smoothening her wrinkled scrubs.

“Quite awhile I’d say,” he says as the minute hand on the clock ticks closer to eleven. “Go back to your flat for a hot shower, I’ll let your colleagues know that you’ll be taking the day off.”

“All right, all right, Harry! I’m going!” Hermione exclaimed passionately, holding her hands up in defeat. She stood up and stretched, her scrubs riding up slightly, bearing a sliver of smooth, creamy skin. Her back cracking satisfyingly, allowing a smile grace her face.

One could say that she resembled an angel. That someone would be the snowy-haired blockhead that watched her silently, finally perceiving her beauty. From the light freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose, to the once frizzy, untamable bush of hair that disappeared, transforming into glossy curls that were tied in a bun. He watched her as she tidied the room and then as she sauntered out the door.

<*>

Hermione apparated into her flat, breathing in the familiar smell of home. She slid her purse and coat off, hanging them on the coat rack next to the door. Crookshanks slunk into view, rubbing his head against her leg.

“Hello Crookshanks, what have you been doing today? Hmm?” she asked her shaggy orange cat, smiling fondly. She pulled her trainers off and set them neatly next to the door.

Crookshanks just meowed in response, turning around and leapt onto her fluffy couch and purred. She just smiled and headed to the bathroom.

The wall was painted a warm, sandy colour, similar to the colour of her morning cup of latte. Hanging on the walls were pictures of her friends. The first frame depicted an image of Hogwarts Golden Trio, the photo was taken by Mrs. Weasley in Diagon Alley.

After the war, her relationship with Ronald had fallen through. They had both committed to a relationship both knew, long before, would never work. They fought often. Most quarrels were about stupid, little matters, such as hanging up a coat after an outing. Hermione tried to mend the relationship, but it seemed as if Ronald tried to twist everything, blaming her on their failed relationship.

The biggest blow was when Hermione found out about his infidelity. She had come home early, to surprise her boyfriend, knowing she hadn’t spent much time with him in the last few weeks. The moment she stepped through the door, sounds of shagging in the next room could be heard. Knowing that their relationship was officially over, she left. Packing all her belongings the next day and renting a new flat closer to work.

Hermione brushed the old memories away and turned her gaze to the next picture.

The picture was of her, Daphne, and Pansy laughing gaily. It had been strange seeing the together, the Slytherins were known to hate those from the opposing houses. Things changed after the war, house rivalry was at a new low and tentative friendships were being made.

Hermione smiled at the ridiculous pictures that they took when they had a sleepover at Daphne’s new flat. Then she stopped at the picture of her parents. It pained her, knowing her parents had no memory of their only daughter.

She had tried to reverse the spell she cast on her parents after the war, but her spell was too well woven. Knowing her parents had a good life in Australia was the only thing that made her feel better.

Turning away from the photograph, she stepped into the bathroom. She undid her bun and slipped her clothes off, turning the shower on full blast.

Hermione’s tired muscles ached as the hot water pounded her back. Her fatigue seemed to vanished like the water that continuously slipped down the drain. She sighed in content as she massaged her scalp and the scent of honeysuckle floated in the steamy air.

Though she was physically relaxed, the wheels of her mind refused to cease churning and spinning. It had been a complete shock when she found out that Draco Malfoy was her soulmate. Out of more than seven billion people, her soulmate just had to be the person who tormented her throughout their childhood years. Malfoy had called her by her given name and complimented her. It was if something possessed the Draco Malfoy she’d known all her life. The Draco Malfoy she knew would never compliment her nor call her by her given name, even if his life depended on it.

Despite the events that transpired the previous night, it had been nice, catching up with Harry. They hadn’t talked in awhile due to their busy schedules.

She rinsed off the soap and shampoo, stepping out of the shower and onto the soft rug. She dried herself with her favourite bath towel and then put on a pair of comfortable pajamas. She magically dried her hair using a spell she perfected in the last year, her hair smooth as opposed to its usual bushy mess.

She left the bathroom feeling much more at ease wandered into her small kitchen. She made herself a sandwich and a latte before heading into the living room to find her book.

She set down her food and picked up a book she left behind the last time she read. Her hands instinctively flipped through its pages, landing on the page she last ended upon.

She sat down at her coffee table with her lunch and opened the book. There, she read to her heart’s content as the afternoon bled into early evening. Hermione read as the solid squares shadows elongated into faded rectangles, as if stretching and yawning before waning and finally surrendering to the night.

The sandwich that once sat on the plate had vanished, the only vestiges were the few crumbs decorating the plate. Her mug that was once full to the brim of coffee, now empty. Only a stain in the cup revealed what it once held.

<*>

  
The peaceful, quiet mood was rudely interrupted by a rapid and strident tapping noise coming from her latched window. Hermione was startled, she had just gotten to the most interesting part in her book when the noise began. She set her book down and grasped her wand tightly. Cautiously stepping toward the window, preparing to fire a hex if necessary. She flung the curtains open, revealing a exceedingly grumpy Hedwig perched on the sill with a letter clutched tightly in her beak.

Hermione visibly relaxed, shaking her head, laughing. She unlocked the window, allowing Hedwig to glide in gracefully. Hedwig landed on Hermione’s battered dance barre and dropped the letter in her waiting hand, hooting softly.

“Apologies, Hedwig. I was reading and didn’t hear you.” Hedwig cooed and flew to the dispenser across the room to retrieve her treat.

Hermione opened the envelope, pulling a hastily scrawled note out. It read as followed:

Mione,

Would you be able to meet me at the new muggle bar, Eagles Nest Brewery, Friday evening? I want to introduce you to my new girlfriend. I didn’t mention it earlier because of your uncanny ability to extract information out of me, ones I’d like to keep a surprise, so apologies. Send your reply with Hedwig.

Hope you can make it,  
Harry

She penned a quick reply to Harry and gave Hedwig the letter. A few minutes later, the owl was flying out the window, making her way back to her master.

Hermione sighed. She’d have to wait for nearly two days before Harry’s grand reveal. She had been surprised at the prospect of Harry finding a new girlfriend. He had broken up with Ginny shortly before she and Ronald were through. The breakup had been mutual, both friends had agreed that they were far more compatible as friends. Everyone had been disappointed, especially poor Mrs. Weasley. The Weasley clan matriarch had long been waiting for a solid boyfriend for Ginny, and a chance to plan the wedding of her only daughter.

Nevertheless, if Harry was happy, then she would support his decisions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I feel the need to apologies in all the end notes because of my irregular posting habits. This chapter took longer to complete because I wanted to make sure the chapter was quality written. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> Wow. You are all bloody amazing! Thank you for all the support and love! I never imagined that so many of you would be interested in this fic. 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to all you amazing readers that keep reading despite the many grammar issues that are probably littered throughout XD!

Our soulmate is the   
one who makes life   
come to life.

-Richard Bach

* * *

 

Hermione cast a quick scourgify charm to clean her plate and mug and sent them zipping back to their spots in the cupboard. She yawned just as the cupboard doors closed. Reaching over the armrest, she gently picked up a worn, shabby bookmark and tucked it between the pages. She shut the book and stood up to put the book away. Her bookshelf, like all the other décor in her flat, was a elegant cream colour. Hermione found the empty space and slid the book back into its proper home.

As Hermione prepared to turn in, she stopped in front of her dance barre. Her fingertips ghosting across its scratched surface, an expression of longing crossed her face before she sighed and headed down the hallway.

She climbed into her bed, feeling more alone than ever. She stared at the ceiling, imagining Draco by himself in the hospital. Once she realised that she was thinking about him, she quickly pushed the image of his pale, golden locks into the furthest confines of her brain. She fell asleep thinking of the next day would bring.

<*>

Whilst a certain Gryffindor was unwinding after an exhausting night at St. Mungo’s, Draco Malfoy awoke after a rather…unintentional nap.

“Argh…” His head throbbing, a painful reminder that escaping the room was definitely not one of his finest ideas. Clearly, his usual Malfoy grace and finesse failed him in his greatest time of need. He sat up slowly, then gingerly touched the sore bump, wincing as the pain flared. A mere second later, a grey-haired healer came rushing in and began fussing over the minor wound.

Draco was confused, shouldn’t it be Granger checking in on him? Why was a different witch here? He craned his neck, trying to peek around the healer’s shoulder. Seeing that the curly-haired witch wasn’t behind the plump woman, Draco asked the woman where his previous caretaker happened to be.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Do you know where healer Granger is?”

“Oh! Miss Granger had decided to take the day off. She had a long night yesterday, taking care of you. She was supposed to leave by ten o’clock yesterday evening, yet she stayed to help with other patients. Then you, poor dear, apparated in with those horrific injuries.”

“Ah.” Draco was disappointed. He had enjoyed talking with the witch, even if the conversation wasn’t exactly what one would call ‘civil’. “Would you mind letting healer Granger know that I’d like to thank her again when she comes back?”

“I will do so, young man. She should be back early tomorrow morning.” The old healer continued to inspect his head, her gold-rimmed glasses slipping down her nose every-so-often.

“May I have some coffee? My throat is parched,” he choked out when she prodded a particularly painful spot.

“Having caffeine after a concussion is highly unadvised! Might I suggest and alternative?” she clucked in disapproval.

Draco just groaned and fell back onto his pillow.

“I have pumpkin juice…Gillywater…orange juice or Tongue-Tying Lemon Squash?” Draco zoned off and stared blankly at the enthusiastic healer as she offered him a multitude of drinks. It was only when the healer mentioned a peculiar “orange juice”, did she spark Draco’s interest.

His curiosity urged him to choose the mysterious “orange juice”. Was this drink a newly invented creation by a clever witch or wizard? Draco had never heard of this oddity.

“What is this…orange juice? May I try it?” he asked hesitantly, hoping with all his that this drink wouldn’t taste like Hippogriff dung.

“Oh! You haven’t heard of orange juice before? Well, it’s a muggle beverage invented years ago. Of course you may try it! I may as well get you some breakfast, I shan’t take too long.” With that, she hurried off to the kitchens.

The young Slytherin mulled over the recent revelations. It made far more sense, now that the witch had explained the origins of orange juice. He had been raised all his life to turn his back on muggles and anything related to them. After all, his father had been the most loyal follower of He-Who-Should-Stay-Dead-And-Rot-In-Hell.

Nearly ten minutes later, the good-natured healer knocked on the door and let herself in. She carried a tray, complete with a heaping pile of food and a tall glass of sparkling orange liquid.

Draco thanked the medi-witch as she set the tray down, the woman gave him a warm smile and left. The Slytherin seeker immediately reached for the orange juice. He took a long swig, his eyes closed in satisfaction. Tangy, tart, and sweet, the flavors bursted in his mouth.

He looked at the glass in amazement, he had never tasted anything as refreshing and delicious as the golden liquid.

If any other member of the wizarding community saw the Malfoy heir indulging himself with a muggle drink before the war, the news would have traveled to every witch and wizard in Great Britain within an hour. But like mentioned earlier, times had changed. People had changed.

<*>

Hermione woke up to her obnoxious alarm.

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” It screeched until she slammed her palm onto the snooze button, effectively shutting up the clock for the time being. It was charmed to repeat the alarm every five minutes until she woke up and flipped the off button.

She threw the clock at the wall. It began to screech again a few minutes later.

She vowed to hex George Weasley the next time she saw him.

Hermione stumbled to the bathroom, cursing when she bumped her hip on the doorframe. She began her usual morning routine, brushing her teeth, a quick shower, and swiping on a hint of mascara and lip balm. Hermione went downstairs soon after she finished, her fingers nimbly twisting her curls into a bun.

Snatching her wallet, earbuds and cellphone off the coffee table, Hermione stuffed them into her jacket pocket and went to grab her trainers. She tugged them on with a bit of a struggle and slipped out the door.

It was drizzling in muggle London. The air smelt of damp soil and a hint of the bluebells that were planted in a pot on her windowsill. The smell was quite unlike the usual bitter smog that inhabited London. The sky was dotted with foreboding grey clouds. The sun had begun to rise in the east, painting a golden blush on the horizon.

She tapped on one her favourite pieces—Fantasiestücke, Op. 73: II. Lebhaft—and tucked phone safely back into the dry confines of her jacket pocket. Hermione stuck her earbuds in and began jogging toward her favourite coffee joint.

The world bled together as she ran, the sounds faded away. All she heard was the music that was playing through her earbuds. Before long, she arrived in front of The Bean and Leaf, only breathing a little harder than usual.

The little café was a quaint place, tucked in a little corner, hidden from the outside world. A wind-battered sign hung from above the doorway, looking as if it was taken straight from a fairytale tavern.

The bell on the door jingled when she pulled open the door. Hermione embraced the familiar smell of roasted coffee. The walls were lined with ancient bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. She waved to the barista, who just smiled knowingly and slid a still-warm coffee down the counter.

“Thanks, Rory.”

“No problem, Herms. See you tomorrow!”

Hermione rolled her eyes fondly at the nickname Rory had come to call her. She grabbed the coffee and took a sip. She walked towards the door, raising a hand as a silent goodbye. Hermione pushed the door open, reveling at the cool breeze that swept past.

The bell jingled again as the door closed.

Pulling out her phone, she checked the time and decided to start her shift earlier than she had planned in case anything was amiss at St. Mungo’s. She looked around before ducking into an alley behind the coffeeshop.

It was soon after that anyone passing by would be able to hear a soft, yet audible ‘pop’.

<*>

Hermione apparated into the staff hallway of St. Mungo’s, she opened the door that said HERMIONE GRANGER and stashed her belongings in her desk. She transfigured her running outfit into a pair of green scrubs and went out the door.

Hermione was halfway down the brightly lit hallway when she was stopped by her fellow colleague, Greta.

“Hello, Hermione! A patient of yours wanted to talk to you, I believe he’s in room 7B.” Hermione looked confused. She couldn’t recall which patient Greta had been referring to. “The blond bloke? I think his surname begins with an ‘M’.”

Hermione realised who the patient was as soon as Greta said ‘blond’. After all, Malfoy’s light blond hair was one of his most attractive traits. She gave Greta a quick thanks and headed toward the wing where Malfoy was located.

Draco was in the middle of devouring his breakfast when someone knocked on the door. Thinking the person behind the door was the old healer again, he called out ‘come in’ with his mouth full.

Instead of the old woman, the witch he’d been asking for a mere hour before she popped in with a hesitant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys,
> 
> I hope this chapter is satisfys your dramione craving. The humour added in made it a tad difficult to keep the writing professional because I find that authors often add humour in, but unintentionally take away the professionalism of the piece. As always, thank you all for enjoying:)
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> I’m sure this chapter will be a favourite for some of you. Banter and flirting involved.

I’m not flirting.  
I’m just being  
extra friendly  
to someone who  
is extra attractive.

-unknown

* * *

 

“Hullo, Malfoy.”

He’d stopped chewing, his eyes were wide open and his cheeks slightly bulging with food.

“Are you going to say ‘hullo’ back?” she said with a smirk, leaning on the doorframe. Draco chewed quickly and swallowed, looking very uncomfortable at being caught mid-chew by Hermione.

“Uh…um…hullo?” he squeaked out. Hermione chuckled and walked over to his bed, adjusting his blankets. She brushed the crumbs off the rumpled white sheets and sat down on the corner of his bed.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked, grinning at the scowl that appeared on his face.

“Absolutely peachy. I hate the hospital.” Draco grumbled into his glass as he raised his arm for another sip of his new favourite drink.

She laughed, her head tilted back. He peered over his glass as he watched her delighted expression. He hid his smile with a cough as Hermione looked at him oddly.

“Malfoy, you didn’t happen to _smile_ just now, did you?” she teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione just shook her head and gave him a knowing smirk. The settled into a comfortable silence as Draco continued to eat his breakfast.

“Malfoy?”

“Yes, Granger?” he said not looking up from his plate.

“How is your mother?” Hermione asked timidly.

Draco swallowed. He had not been expecting that question.

“She is doing…well. Better than expected, I suppose. She is making friends…” he trails off.

“Good. I’m glad you’re both holding up. I know how the press can be, even with the war over.” Hermione wrinkles her nose at the thought of Rita Skeeter and her abhorrent reports.

They quieted, falling into their respective thoughts. It seemed as if someone muted their voices.

Draco’s tattoo had been tingling the entire morning and he desperately wanted to scratch at it. He didn’t think that anyone in the hospital that he’d seen could be his potential mate. Draco concluded that the tingling must be a side affect from the fall he’d taken.

“Hey Granger, my tattoo is tingling. Any eligible witches in this floor?” Draco joked, breaking the silence. Hermione paled and wiped her hands on her scrubs nervously.

“Uh, um…I don’t know Malfoy. I think I heard someone outside, I’m going to check if there’s anyone outside the door,” she sputtered, practically running out the door.

Hermione rushed out the door, leaned on the wall and groaned. She didn’t plan on telling Malfoy anytime soon. Sure, she was attracted to him, but once he finds out, he’d probably hate her.

Back inside the room, Draco was mulling over what he’d seen. Hermione had been acting very strange. Perhaps she knew who is soulmate was? After all, she saw his tattoo and may have matched it with someone else’s. The prospect of finally finding his soulmate excited him. Once he was released, he’d make an excuse to come often. Maybe he’ll be able to find his soulmate that way.

“There’s no one outside the door, I checked the hallway and the stairs,” Hermione said, coming back into the room, “Let me check your head. I might be able to release you if can you’re able stand and walk without getting dizzy.”

Draco nodded and set his tray on the nightstand. Hermione leaned over the bed and tilted his head down. What she didn’t realise was that, leaning over and by tilting his head, she gave him a very nice view of her cleavage.

Draco gulped audibly, his face turning a hilarious shade of red. Who would have imagined that the Golden Princess would someday transform into such an attractive woman?

“Erm…Granger…your shirt…” he rasped as he discreetly adjusted his pants under the sheets. Hermione looked down and blushed hard when she realised what he was referring to.

“Um…sorry, these scrubs are a bit loose…” she murmured as she straightened, “the swelling on your head seems to have gone down. Let’s see if you can walk around without getting dizzy.” Hermione held out her hand as Draco pushed the blankets away, albeit reluctantly.

Draco ignored her offered hand as he stood up, towering over her petite frame. As Draco walked around the room, he tried to get rid of his arousal, desperately thinking of turn offs. Thankfully, Hermione didn’t notice, as she was marking up the papers on her clipboard.

“All right, looks like you’re free to go. Be careful for next couple days, _do not_ do anything dangerous,” she gave him a pointed look, “Floo in if you have any problems.”

Draco nodded as he looked around for his shirt and trench coat.

“I can’t promise anything, Granger. Now, _where the hell are my clothes_?” Draco looked all over the room while Hermione stood their patiently, waiting for him to finish.

“Well, you see…your clothes were well past soiled…so we burned them,” she said, wringing her hands.

“Oh come on, that was my third pair!” he frowned.

“I can transfigure the sheets into a shirt if you’d like?” Without waiting for him to reply, she spoke the spell to transform his sheets into a plain white tee.

Hermione thrust the shirt into his hands as he looked at her, dumbfounded. All she said before walking out the door was,

“See you around, Malfoy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, but the next chapter is already in progress. I do have most of it planned out, I only need to find the time to write it. Apologies for my the extremely long wait...life is a struggle. Again, if you do find any errors/typos/flaws, please take the 30 seconds to let me know. The feedback is very helpful. Thanks for the love and support:)
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	6. Chapter VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.

The best kinds of friendships  
are the fierce lady friendships  
where you aggressively  
believe in each other,  
defend each other and think  
the other deserves the world.  
  
-unknown

* * *

 

Hermione apparated to the door of Pansy’s flat as soon as she finished her shift. The door swung open just as she raised her fist to knock. A groan followed.

“What in the name of Merlin’s beard are you wearing?” Pansy said, looking quite disgusted with the hospital scrubs Hermione was wearing.

“Erm…my hospital scrubs?”

“Get in here and change into something that doesn’t resemble a pillow case.”

Hermione didn’t know whether she should feel offended or grateful for Pansy’s remark. The scrubs were designed to be practical, not at all stylish.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at the dark-haired witch as she stepped into the foyer. Pansy quickly ushered her into the spare bedroom and tossed her a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Hermione had quickly introduced the Slytherin Princess to muggle clothing once the girls had become more familiar with one another. They had gone to Westfield London, with Daphne in tow, and shopped for the entire afternoon. Shopping was definitely not one of Hermione’s favourite pastimes, but she had been willing to endure the crowds for the sake of her friends.

Although the girls periodically sent their purchases to Pansy’s flat, Pansy still left the mall with several bags in hand. While Pansy dragged Hermione around to different stores, Daphne trailed behind the duo, taking in the sights and the people. As soon as the trio returned to Pansy’s flat, they had collapsed on the couch and used the rest of the evening to chat.

Pansy shut the door and called out, “I’m going to use the loo, make some tea if you finish before me.”

Hermione gave her a quick ‘ok’ and stripped, folding her clothes into a neat pile. She slid the shirt and pants on and grabbed her wand, waving it and transfiguring her scrubs back into her running clothes. She undid her messy bun and ran a hand through her wild curls, her fingers untangling the familiar knots at the ends of her hair.

She walked out the room, past Pansy’s spacious living area and into the kitchen. There, she opened the cabinetry and pulled out two large teacups with the letters ‘H’ and ‘P’ respectively, scribbled in cursive. She filled the mugs up with hot water and dropped a tea bag each into the steaming cups. Soon, the aroma of Earl Grey filled the flat.

She carried the mugs to the living room where she set the mugs on the table and made herself comfortable on the couch whilst she waited for Pansy to finish using the loo.  
Hermione didn’t have to wait long, Pansy walked out the hallway with a grin and immediately plopped onto the couch.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Hermione asked cautiously, eyeing Pansy suspiciously. Pansy picked up her mug and took a long sip before answering.

“Well, I met a bloke—” Pansy says shyly before being cut off by Hermione’s gasp. Hermione set her mug on the table with a clatter and threw her arms around Pansy.

“Oh, Pansy! I’m so happy for you! How—what—where did you meet?”

“We ran into one another at a bar, I’m meeting with him tomorrow evening. Would you like to meet him?” Pansy looked hopeful as Hermione squeezed her hand.

“I can’t make it,” Hermione said sadly, “I told Harry that I’d meet him at a bar with his girlfriend tomorrow. Raincheck?” Pansy had an odd look on her face, a mixture between surprise and…something else.

“Y-yeah, sure. No problem!” She stammered, taking another drink of her rapidly cooling tea. The duo sipped their tea in silence before Pansy set her tea down.

“So, did _you_ meet a bloke? You’re glowing, you look happy.” Hermione choked, her eyes watering at the unpleasant sensation. Pansy looked at her mischievously, almost looking as if she already knew what Hermione was going to say.

“Me? Well…” Hermione debated whether she should reveal her secret, or wait a little longer. She settled on the former, “I found my soulmate.” She blurted out, setting her empty mug on the table.

One moment she was sitting, the next moment she was being yanked off the couch. Pansy shrieked with joy and swung her friend around in circles.

“Hermione! I’m so happy for you, love! Who is it?!”

“It’s Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

Pansy’s jaw dropped.

“You’re fucking with me. Tell me you’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not; however, it would have been much worse if he knew…”

“He doesn’t know?!”

“Uh…no? And I don’t plan on telling him anytime soon.”

“I genuinely thought you were more sensible than this. You know he’s going to find out eventually, you might as well rip off the band-aid now.”

“Hush. We aren’t going to talk about this anymore. What have you been up to this past week?” Hermione said, effectively changing the subject as Pansy sighed in resignation.

The women talked until the sun went down and the fireplace cast an eerie glow on their faces. As soon as Hermione bid her friend “adieu” and apparated out, Pansy sent an owl to the third member of their trio.

**Daphne,**

**Hermione met her SM. Meet me at The Three Broomsticks tomorrow morning at 11o’clock. I shall fill you in on the details. We have some planning to do.**

**Pansy**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. I know my updates are slow, but this time of year is the busiest. Also, updates WILL slow down during the summer due to my inability to find internet and a device to use. So please, bear with me. Thank you all for the love and support as always:)
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.
> 
> Note: —+— = line-break in “flashback”.

If you find someone  
You love in your life,  
Then hang on to that love.

-Princess Diana

* * *

 

Pansy arrived at The Three Broomsticks just before the clock struck eleven. She swept into the pub with billowed robes and searched the crowd for her fellow Slytherin. Soon, her gaze fell on a woman with long brown locks sitting in booth tucked in a corner. She made her way back with little trouble, as no one payed her much attention.

“Oi, Daph!” Daphne turned around, a smile appearing on her face. Daphne waited patiently as Pansy hung her coat on a nearby hook. Sliding into the booth, Pansy unwrapped her green and silver scarf as Daphne set a weathered menu in front of her.

“How are you Pansy? It seems like ages since we last met up.”

“I’m doing well, I met a wizard a few months ago…” Pansy said, trailing off. Clasping Pansy’s hands, Daphne’s smile grew.

“You deserve it, Panse. He better be good to you, else I’ll kick his arse into next year.” Pansy laughed as Madame Rosmerta stopped in front of their table for their orders. The girls ordered two Butterbeers and continued to talk.

Daphne leaned in close, lowering her voice, “So, about Hermione…who’s the lucky man?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Pansy whispered, “it’s Draco Malfoy!”

Daphne blinked.

<*>

Hermione tugged at the hem of her dress, wishing for the hundredth time that it was longer. The black dress fell to mid-thigh and showed much more skin than she was accustomed to. She swiped on a hint of lipstick and picked up her clutch. She stopped in front of her mirror, giving herself one last once-over before apparating out of her flat.

She popped into the dimly ginnel behind the bar, the street lamps flickering eerily. She exited the opening, turning onto the busy night walk. Loud music thrummed through the air, having been at full volume from inside the bar. She flashed her ID at the bouncer outside the door and stepped into the boisterous atmosphere.

Hermione walked in and stopped, her jaw dropping. A dark-haired woman and a equally as dark-haired man were in the middle of a heated lip lock by the bar.

“Pansy?” she shouted, “Harry?”

Both witch and wizard looked up and grinned.

Hermione groaned, realising that the “unknown” bloke Pansy had been referring to was Harry and that the mysterious girlfriend Harry had wanted her to “meet” was Pansy. She stalked over to the duo and plopped on the stool next to Harry.

“So. When did you two get together exactly?”

The couple grimaced guiltily, glancing at the other person.

“I take it awhile ago, judging by the way you’re looking at each other,” Hermione said dryly.

“It’s been about five months?” Harry said, Pansy nodding in confirmation. Hermione exploded.

“Five whole months?! Harry James Potter, Pansy Parkinson! I expected far better from both of you!”

Harry and Pansy cringed. They really shouldn’t have put it off for so long. Pansy gestured to the barkeep for another round of drinks as Harry began their little story.

<*>

Harry was at a bar in East London, a night to chill and relax after a stressful week on the job. He was just taking his first sip of beer when the lights dimmed and the stage at the back of the bar lit up.

A woman clad in ripped jeans and a black leather jacket stomped up the steps with her dangerous looking combat boots. She looked quite familiar, yet he couldn’t seem to figure out where he’d met her. Her eyes were lined with kohl, lips painted in a dark rouge and her inky hair cut in a bob. She tugged the microphone out of its stand, the speakers overhead screeched. Everyone cringed while the woman glared at the device in her hand.

“Ahem…” The room quieted. Music started playing.

She sang like she was the only one in the room; she had everyone in her thrall, captivated. Her voice was a soft tenor that reached out for every soul in the room. Harry had forgotten his drink; his eyes were trained on the stunning woman on stage.

Her eyes were closed as she gently swayed to the music. Harry’s tattoo was tingling maniacally, almost as if tiny pixies had crawled under his skin. He distracted himself by drummed his fingers lightly on the bottle of his drink. He took his glasses off, cleaning them with a red handkerchief. He put his glasses back on, there was something about that girl…

She ended the song, the audience still. Suddenly, the bar exploded in thunderous applause. Shouts of, “Encore!” and “Brava!” echoed above the crowd. The girl bowed, once, twice, thrice. The audience continued to cheer. One last bow; she straightened and looked directly at him. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes beginning to line with silver.

The woman rushed off stage just as Harry suddenly realised where he’d seen her before.

“Oh, fucking hell. It’s Pansy,” he took his glasses off again, rubbing his face with his other hand. Sliding his glasses back on, he tilted his head back and gulped down the rest of his beer before leaving his table to hunt down a certain Slytherin.

—+—

Pansy grinned as she bowed once more. Her blood was buzzing with adrenaline and her tattoo was, strangely, tingling. The anonymity within the lesser known bar was a blessing. No one knew who she was, and she knew no one here. That thought was dashed from her mind when she looked up and saw a familiar pair of green eyes framed by black glasses.

She felt her eyes begin to water, rushing off stage. She had to get out before he found her and taunted her for her love of singing again.

Escaping the bar wasn’t hard, the place was packed with late-nighters. She slipped out the back door and down the rusted stairwell. Hiding in the shadows, she let herself fall apart. Pansy’s quiet sobs echoed in the empty ally. This was supposed to her night, the one time she could do what she loved without the fear of being taunted. Harry just had to ruin it.

Pansy continued to cry, wallowing in self-pity. The back door swung open, a silhouette of a man filling the doorway.

A clatter of footsteps. Pansy stopped for a moment, sniffling and trying to stay silent.

“Pansy?”

She closed her eyes and prayed that he’d overlook her hiding spot and leave. Pansy wished she had decided to bring her wand. She’d love to hex him into oblivion.

Suddenly he was there, only a few feet away. She could sense him; he smelt of citrus and an underline of sandalwood.

“Go away.” Pansy said hoarsely; looking away, she didn’t want him to see her in this state.

“Please…I just want to apologise.”  
“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” she said, wiping at her cheeks.

“I’m sorry…for making fun of you in sixth year. I was a prat. I didn’t know what to say when I heard your singing, you had the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard. The words that came out weren’t what I intended them to be…I always say the wrong things when I’m around you.” Harry said earnestly, he really did mean it. The last part was barely audible, it was as if he was talking to himself.

“I forgive you,” Pansy said, voice wavering, “only if you accept my apology as well.”

“I accept.” Harry agreed right away, long since putting aside his prejudices.

“But—”

“I accept, I understand. We were all stuck within the confines of our preconceptions.”

“…Thank you.” Pansy said, her voice thick with emotion.

They were quiet for a moment, bathing in the newfound peace. Harry broke the silence, taking a few steps forward.

“May I kiss you?” he said softly.

“What?” she asked, looking up sharply.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, repeating his question.

One step closer.

“Can you?” she breathed.

They had somehow made it under the a dim light fixed to the wall. Pansy could see his scar now; his wild raven hair. Harry could see her biting her lip; the slight sheen on her cheeks from her tears.

They were both hesitant, slowly getting closer and closer until their noses her almost touching. Their lips met clumsily, both of them unsure. Soon, their insecurities melted away, replaced by curiosity and confidence. He cupped her cheek, her fingers tugging at his unruly locks. The raw need to feel each other was unbearably so. Their hearts sang for one another, a light tingling sensation could be felt throughout their bodies. They finally broke for air, gasping.

“Hey! What are you two doing out here? It isn’t safe out here, get inside.” The bartender seemed to keep an eye out for his clients.

Harry gave Pansy a smirk and gestured for her to go first.

“My lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I hope this chapter satisfied any questions you all may have. The next updates will be far, far slower because I may not be able to access the internet for some time. Thank you all as always for the love and support! I cannot believe this fic has already gotten to 2000 hits. Thank you. 
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER-  
> I do not own Harry Potter, only this plot. Please don’t copy this without my permission. I’ve worked hard on it.

You walked in my life  
like you always lived  
there, like my heart was  
a home built just for you.

-A.R. Asher

* * *

 

Hermione shook her head and smiled, only those two would somehow have a hidden history.

“Of course, you just couldn’t help but make fun of her singing, Harry. Boys will be boys.” Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy elbowed Harry in the stomach.

Harry grumbled incoherently as Pansy pecked him on the cheek. Hermione casted her gaze toward the dance floor, a silent invitation to dance. Pansy nodded just as Harry shook his head violently.

“No way,” he shouted over the music, “dancing is not my forte!”

“Too bad,” Pansy announced, dragging Harry off his stool, “you’re coming anyway.”

The threesome headed towards the dance floor where sweaty bodies twisted and more daring couples ground against one another. The music throbbed and pounded with wild abandon, feeding the thrill of the crowd.

Pansy and Harry instantly paired up as Hermione waved to them, letting them know that she’d find someone to dance with. Hermione’s tattoo began tingling; she ignored it.

Hermione leaned against a column at the edge of the dance floor, watching the duo in their own little world; swaying to a song of their own. Her lips curved into a gentle smile; they deserved it.

“Granger.”

Hermione whirled around, coming face to face with the one and only Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy!” she blinked, her hand flying to her heart, “What are you doing here?”

“Pansy mentioned this place as a muggle bar she enjoys and frequents often, so I thought I’d check it out.” Draco said, running his slim fingers through his already tousled pale locks. “What are you doing here? Didn’t know you were one to enjoy scenes like this.” He gestured to the loud atmosphere, his words void of his usual bite. Draco sounded almost as if…he was teasing her.

“Oh! Well, actually, I came here to meet Pansy and her boyfriend. She’s on the dance floor with him. I think you should talk to her later…privately.”

“All right.” Draco looked skeptical and mildly surprised. Pansy had a new boyfriend? Since when?

<One Hour Earlier>

Draco buttoned up his crisp white dress shirt, then shrugging on his blazer. Tucking his wand into the inner pocket of his blazer, he went into the bathroom and picked up his hair gel, flicking it open. He turned the bottle upside down, paused, then decided against it. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair multiple times in an attempt to style his hair.

He padded out into his bedroom, stopping in front of his mirror once more; brushing away invisible specks of dirt on his slacks. He smirked, looking quite pleased with himself and headed toward his front door. Once there, he slipped on his well-worn dragon hide shoes and swung open the green painted door.

Jogging down the sparkling marble steps, Draco pulled out his pocket watch, glancing at its polished face.

10 o’clock on the dot.

He nodded at the concierge and exited the complex, turning the corner. He walked a block, attuned to the silence of the streets. It was when he picked up a faint thumping beat did he know he was close to his destination.

<*>

“May I have a dance?” Draco asked, holding out a hand.

Hermione was surprised, a dance?

“A dance?”

“Yes, a dance, you insufferable swot. That thing where you move your legs?” Draco raised an elegant eyebrow; his mouth quirked in a smile. He was teasing her again. “Wait. _Do_ you know how dance?” his eyes were wide, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I know what a dance is, you ferret! And of course I know how to dance! How do you suppose I survived the Yule Ball in fourth year?” Draco’s face softened; smiling gently.

Hermione reached out hesitantly, her gaze matching his. Unsure. A silver ice storm met warm whisky. Suddenly, all seemed…right. Draco’s eyes widened once more, his smile faltering.

“You…you’re…you’re my soulmate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> I apologies for the late chapter. I haven’t had the time to write and post this chapter because of the summer course I am taking. This is a short chapter, but I thought it was a good place to end. Gotta love those cliffhangers;) Thank you all again for sticking with this fic. We still have quite a few chapters left!
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> This chapter is a tad short, however, I thought the end was fitting. So, I left you all at a cliff hanger. Let me know what you think. This is my first time writing a Dramione fic. The next chapter should be out in the next few days or week. 
> 
> -silv3r_eyed_stranger


End file.
